


processing

by deniigiq



Series: electric sheep [11]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Androids, Artificial Intelligence, Happy Ending, M/M, i guess, tie it up with a bow yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 10:28:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14078904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deniigiq/pseuds/deniigiq
Summary: “If you don’t bite anyone,” he said, pulling the vest over Matt’s head and shoving a white collared shirt at him. “Or cut off the judge, or pick a fight with Marci, or intimidate a police officer, then I will let you pick the music tonight.”





	processing

**Author's Note:**

> no warnings here: only schmoop from here on out friends

“Matt, open this door or so help me god, I will do it myself!”

Karen shouldered through the front door and set her coffee on her desk, dropping her keys and her coat next to it to free up a hand.

“Alright fine, I’m getting the screw driver! Whups, looks like none of them fit. Guess I’m just gonna have to use this giant one and press _really hard.”_

She dumped the load of files and mail she had collected onto the center of the desk and shook out her arm in relief. Christ, how did they get so much mail? There was only three of them altogether.

“You hear that? I’m stripping the screw--your favorite sound in the world, buddy! Gotta love that grinding!”

She meandered towards Matt’s office door and found Foggy crouched on the floor in his court slacks with a huge toolbox open next to him. He was making good on his promise and doing quite a number on the bottom hinge of the door.

Matt was making muffled distressed noises on the other side.

“What did he do this time?” She asked, leaning against the wall to watch the proceedings. Foggy jolted a bit, having not heard her, then peeked over his shoulder.

“He dropped another one off at the station. Brett called me to lodge a formal complaint.”

“Did he wear the red?”

“Of course he did, who do you think he is? Matty, you can’t keep dropping bots off at station,” he called through the door, “They aren’t equipped for that shit.”

Matt didn’t respond.

He rested his forehead against the doorframe in frustration. “We don’t have time for this, Matt. We have to be at court in an hour.”

“What I am supposed to do with them, then?” Came the grumpy, muffled retort.

Foggy looked to the heavens for strength and then flung his arms out in exasperation.

“I don’t know, man. Take ‘em to a shelter? Drop ‘em off on the Project’s doorstep? Just leave ‘em anywhere but the station, you’re driving those guys nuts and they won’t stop fucking calling me.”

There was a speculative pause on the other side of the door. Foggy stared at it hopefully.

“The Project doesn’t do shit,” Matt bitched instead, clearly not ready to let this go. Foggy groaned. Karen covered her mouth to stifle the giggles.

“They helped you,” Foggy pointed out.

“They fucked up a perfectly good legal case by sending a load of untrained regulators into a tenuous trafficking situation after I let a guy beat the shit out of me for an hour, which part of that helped me?”

Karen really was trying not to laugh; they were, in fact, due in court in an hour and Matt was probably still in the suit. It always took ages to peel him out of the suit—mostly because he was a little in love with it and never wanted to take it off to begin with.

Laughing would only encourage him.

“I dunno, pal, maybe the part where they represented you and the other 70 schmucks who were upstream without a paddle? Maybe the part where they set a new precedent in android regulatory law so that morons like yourself could do things like, I dunno, work in a law firm and own property? Or maybe it was the part where they paid out the ass for your shiny new processor? Take your pick, buddy, none of it changes the fact that we’ve got court and I know you’re wearing the goddamned suit.”

“I don’t wanna.” Matt whined. But he cracked the door open. Foggy stood up, dusted off his knees, and crossed his arms.

“You always say that, but who’s the one who has to drag your dumbass out of the building at the end of the day?”

Matt had the grace to look sheepish. He wore dark red sunglasses now. Karen thought that ironically, they made him more expressive.

“You.”

“That’s right.” Matt smirked.

“Handler.”

He almost closed the door fast enough to avoid the arm Foggy threw around his neck, but alas, even the greatest occasionally fell. Karen watched them wrestle for a minute before Matt relented and let Foggy at the straps on the vest. He pouted the whole time. Sad puppy face at 90% capacity.

Foggy was weak.

“If you don’t bite anyone,” he said, pulling the vest over Matt’s head and shoving a white collared shirt at him. “Or cut off the judge, or pick a fight with Marci, or intimidate a police officer, then I will let you pick the music tonight.”

Matt perked up; telling-off forgotten. Karen heard his processor kick into the next gear. The processor was connected to his ear like an earpiece, so she could see it lighting up as his gears got to turning. Foggy glared at it suspiciously.

“If I win the case?”

“You aren’t winning any cases, you are sitting at the desk and not scaring the witnesses.”

“Yes, yes,” Matt bargained, “But if I win the case?”

Ernst had made the lights in his processor cyan, yellow, and magenta and they flashed and danced mischievously when he got excited. He was very excited.

“If you shut up and let _me_ win the case, then you get to pick the next one.”

“And music.”

“See? Do you see this? This is what I’m talking about, Karen. No one listens to me. They can’t see how manipulative he is. Fine. And music. Whatever. Just sit still and be pretty and _don’t talk._ ”

“I’m always pretty.”

“Boy, don’t I know it.”

Matt beamed at Foggy and his processor went haywire the way it did when he experienced what George fondly referred to as the Foggy Emotion. It embarrassed Foggy a little, Karen had realized in the weeks after Matt had gotten it.

Foggy confided in her that it was just kind of humbling to be able to see exactly how Matt felt, and he felt bad that he couldn’t show Matt anything in return. She told him that she was pretty sure that Matt knew that he loved him too; he’d blushed with his whole body.

Foggy, after all, had named the firm Nelson & Murdock, despite the fact that Matt wasn’t technically able to be a partner.

He was able to be a lawyer, though, after an exciting showdown between the Project and Columbia. He was an amazing lawyer, too, and not just because he had the entire internet in his head. He was like a dog with a bone when it came to injustice. The catch was that he wasn’t allowed to represent an entity on his own. The general human public still wasn’t sold on the idea of a non-organic person representing them in what boiled down to a very organic system.

They had a long way to go, but he and Foggy did their best with what they had. And Matt did his best with the extra bits he had, to the enormous annoyance of the NYPD and the Empathy Project. He left bots and bot traffickers in their foyers at least twice a week. There was no rule against bot vigilante justice (if there was one, Matt would surely know it) and so no one knew quite how to stop him. What were they supposed to charge him as? A human or an android?

Recently, they’d figured out that peer pressure from Foggy was the most effective method of addressing the issue without litigation (everyone was really fucking tired of litigation).

Karen toyed with the idea of replacing the newly stripped screw while they were out. But Foggy would just strip another one before the week was out, so it probably wasn’t worth it.

Matt had barely shrugged on a jacket before Foggy shoved a tie in one of his hands, his stick in the other, and then shoved the whole of him towards the door.

“Go, go, go. Move! Places to be, things to do. Sorry, Karen. Have a good day, we’ll see you tonight!”

Matt waved and off they went.

 

**Author's Note:**

> that's all folks. Thank you all so much for reading and sticking with me. This process has reminded of why I never write anything but one-shots, but ya'll's comments made my days and kept me going, so thanks so much for your support. 
> 
> And yes, Stick got away; there was no version of this in which Stick didn't get away.


End file.
